


Constant Inconsistency

by Vixensong



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Violence, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood and Violence, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Keith (Voltron), Homophobic Language, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), One Night Stands, POV Keith (Voltron), Past Abuse, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixensong/pseuds/Vixensong
Summary: Keith and Lance are Bounty Hunters who were hired by a secret client to compete to kill the same target. After they're hired to do this multiple times, the two find themselves forming an unlikely friendship.But when the client shows itself to have other intentions, the two must work together to avoid the claws of a corrupt organization and protect the lives of them and their friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

 

The rhythmic sound of Keith's boots crashing against the pavement matched the beating of his heart. He heard the sound of his pursuers behind him and picked up the pace, twisting through the maze of alleyways in an attempt to lose them.

Keith has never had to run before. He was always careful to do his job quickly, before anyone got the chance to see him, but he slipped up this time. There wasn't supposed to be a police officer patrolling this area until later that night, but some crazy person had called the police to report someone breaking in to their home when it was just their nephew. He knew this because he heard the police officer speaking on his walky talky when he walked out of the alleyway.

the officer spotted him instantly, noticing the attire Keith was in and decided that coming to this area might not have been a false alarm anyway.

Keith took off instantly. Shooting down the nearest alleyway with the officer and his partner close behind him.

He knew this city well, but it was the police's job to know it too. Losing them was harder then he thought. He quickly changed plans, deciding to go for a different approach. With the plan in mind he put on a burst of speed, running through the next two alleyways and out onto the open street. He pushed pasts the crowd before settling himself in the mass, looking as casual as he could. He pulled down his face mask and untied the jacket around his waist. He pulled it over his shoulders and tried to change his walking, knowing that in itself was a giveaway of identity.

He didn't look back, he knew the officers would he searching through the crowd for faces and he couldn't look suspicious. He was lucky it was such a busy night, else he'd be toast right now. He mentally scolded himself for getting himself in such a messy situation. You'd think after two years of doing this he'd be more careful. Mistakes like this would quite literally cost him his life.

he pulled himself out of his thoughts and broke off from the crowd and down another alley. He took a moment to breath, crouching down behind dumpster and clutching his sides. As his adreniline started melting away he felt the wear on his body from the past hours. It wasn't easy getting his target into a position where he could deal with him quickly and out of sight. It was a lot of tailing him, staying far enough behind him that he couldn't tell he was being followed. When he eventually pulled him in a space between a fast food joint and another building he dealt with him quickly. It took awhile, so he appreciated being able to stop for a second. He didn't have long to rest though. He froze as he heard the voices of the two officers and cursed. He veered right and down another alley, slower this time so his footsteps didn't echo around the vast spaces. He ran and ran and took random paths, trying to put as much distance between him and the cops when he turned and-

 _dead end_. Keith thought as he stared up at the high fence. He could scale it if he had more time, but the officers were still gaining and he had no way of knowing if he'd be trapped in whatever was on the other side of the fence.

" _Dammit_." He cursed. He scanned the buildings next to him. On his left there was a fire escape, but it didn't go up high enough, and judging by the materials it was made of it would be noisy. He'd be given away instantly. He looked up at the other building. The best thing it had to offer were windows. Upon closer examination though Keith saw the windows had sunken in ledges.

 _Perfect_. He thought, and begun to climb.

He knew exactly what to do. He climbed up the wire fence half way and jumped up to the window ledge. He reached up for the next one. His fingers just barely grazed the ledge. His heart pounded against his chest as he herd the officers footsteps growing louder. He braced himself up on the wall reached up further. He managed to grasp the ledge and pull himself up. He made it up two windows in a similar way before the officers reached the alley.

he pressed himself up against the window, praying that the officers couldn't see his boots peeking over the edge.

"Think he jumped the fence?" The younger looking officer said, peering through the holes in the fence.

"Don't see any other option, 'less he can fly." The older man said. "I'll circle around, you climb over, you _can_ climb can't you?"

"Course I can."

the two split up, and it wasn't until the officer was over the fence that Keith could breath again.

He let his back fall against the window and sighed in relief. Close calls like this could not happen again. He needed to be more diligent- more observant- if he had any chance of staying in this business. The more he succeeded in his job the more desirable it would be to have him in jail.

He wasn't even out of the situation yet, he needed to figure out how he was going to get out. He could stay here until morning, but that gives more of a chance for backup to be called. He could try to get home going back through the alleys, but that runs the risk of running into the police officers. Instead he would wait them out, stay until midnight, maybe later, before leaving through the alleys and onto the main road. However, that still raises the question of if they deem him important enough for backup. That presents new problems. He then realized who he could call that would know exactly the answer he needed.

As he made his decision the window behind him dislodged and he was knocked back into the building. His head hit the floor with a resounding _thwack_ and he exclaimed in alarm. He stood up, rubbing his head and cursing under his breath. He looked around, seeing nothing but an empty office space. It seemed like nobody would be there, the only thing providing light for vision being the moon. After making sure there was nobody around he pulled over one of the spin chairs and sat down, resting his legs on the desk it paired with. He grabbed the office phone and dialed a number.

After ringing a few times someone on the other line picked up.

"Who are you and how did you get this number."A voice answered, not particularly concerned.

"Pidge it's me."

"Keith? Why are you calling me from an office phone?"

"I fucked up, ended up with the police on my tail." As Keith explained the situation he heard the pitter patter of keys on a keyboard.

"lemme check the surveillance cameras around the building, see if the boys in blue are still around." Pidge said boredly.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me, you could pay me a little extra this time though." She said slyly.

Keith rolled his eyes. It was then that he heard something shift behind him. Just barely noticeable but enough that trained rats could here it.

"Your clear Keith."

"There's someone else here, I gotta go." Keith harshly whispered into the phone before setting it down. He slowly turned his head to see a man sitting across the office space, positioned at the other window.

Keith ducked behind the desk, wondering if the man was so focused that he hasn't noticed him. He was kneeling with a sniper rifle on his shoulder. He wasn't wearing anything particularly secretive, just jeans and a t-shirt. He gripped the sniper rifle with steady hands, and was clearly following a walking target. He looked lanky from where Keith was, he figured if it came to it he could probably take him in a fist fight. The question was if he should try to talk to him, leave, or kill him.

he didn't get the chance to make a choice before the man spoke.

"Are you gonna try to kill me?" His voice was playful, teasing. Like he figured he already knew the answer.

"You gonna try to shoot me?" Keith fired back.

"Touché" The man turned and smiled. "I'm not gonna shoot you, you can relax."

Keith didn't. Instead he walked over to where the man was and leaned against the wall. His hand still gripping the knife by his leg. Whoever this guy was, he didn't trust him. He couldn't help but want a closer look though, something about the man just pulled him in. Not in a sexual way-though he was objectively attractive, with his short brown hair that curled at the edges and lean features that gave away years of work- but in a curious way. The man was so aloof, so not worried about the present situation. Every other hunter of assassin he met was serious and deadly, with an unwavering guard around themselves. Relaxed and confident is not something seen often.

"What are you, some kinda ninja?" He said with a crooked grin, clearly referring to the way Keith was dressed. 

Keith frowned. He had to admit he did look a slight bit ninja- ish. With his form-fitting black outfit and face mask. He didn't appreciated it being pointed out though.

"내가 너라면 죽을거야" he said, feeling a sense of self-satisfaction at the look on the man's face.

"Did you just put a ninja curse on me? Not cool dude." He said with a pout.

"it's your own fault."

The man went back to smiling. "I'm Lance. Lance McClain. I'm sure you've heard of me."

"No, I haven't." Keith said nonchalantly.

The man- Lance- looked shocked at that. "You new to the business?"

Keith shrugged. "Somewhat."

"Then you'll hear of me soon enough. You should pay more attention to the news." He said, winking.

 _Ah_. Keith thought. _He's a marker._ "Markers always get caught eventually, you know."

"Only when they want to be. It gets boring after awhile." Lance let out an exaggerated sigh. He turned back to his sniper rifle momentarily before setting it down into a case and closing the latches.

Keith watched him, puzzled. "Did I blow your cover or something? Lose your target?"

"Nah, no shooting today." He said, standing up. "Ive got all I need today."

he pushed open the window before looking back at Keith. "It was nice meeting ya, ninja-boy."

He scoffed. "It's Keith. Keith Kogane."

"Keith." He said, smirking. "I like it."

He hopped out the window in one swift motion, grabbing the ledge and disappearing over the side. Keith stared at the spot where he disappeared for a second before walking back to the other side of the office and popping open the window. A voice rang out for behind him.

"Te veo, chico lindo, intenta no morir!" He heard Lances voice call. Keith smirked and climbed out the window, thinking about how he'd tell Pidge about this.

That was the first time he met Lance McClain.

* * *

 

That day was about 4 years ago. Since then he's grown a bit of a distaste for him. After telling Pidge about him she referenced him to a few news articles and told him about some of the things she'd find out from other hunters, and from Lance himself.

"Your his informant?"

"Course I am, who wouldn't want me as there informant?" She had said, hunched over a computer, words flying up the screen at what looked like 100 miles a minute.

Its true, if you wanted reliable information everyone knows you go to Pidge. She's truly the best in the business, and if you can gain her favor you'll be truly lucky. Keith's been on the receiving end of a few of her favors and he can say that it's truly worth whatever you'll have to do.

When Pidge told him how he went about his kills Keith found himself scowling. Lance liked to get to know his victims apparently, he played with them. Stared them straight in the eye and wished them well. Talked with them, laughed with them. Maybe even sent them a word of warning, to "keep their head up, maybe something will come their way." With a cherry smile on his face.It sickened Keith, knowing someone could be so cruel. Even though Pidge insisted on the fact that these are just rumors, that she's talked to Lance tons of times and he's never showed signs of being that heartless. But Keith knew better then to dismiss things like that. He vowed that day to not give Lance the time of day again if he ever saw him, which he did. Maybe once or twice every 6 months he'd come across him. He refused to even talk to Lance, just brushed right by him. He didn't tolerate unnecessary cruelty. His distaste of Lance only grew the more he heard other bounty hunters talk about him. About his style and his kills and how the police have no idea it's him even though he's right in front of their faces." No, Keith knows this business is tough, but toying with people like that is horrible.

Keith wouldn't budge on this. Lance was trouble, and more trouble is not something a bounty hunter needs.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good Keith and Pidge bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end

"$2.50 is your change." The cashier said, placing Keith's change next to his coffee on the counter.

Keith mumbled a thank you and scooped up his change, pocketing it, and grabbing his coffee. He placed a hesitant sip to lips and cringed back when the coffee proved too hot to drink. He looked around. There were only a few other people in the building, most taking spots by the window.

Opting to sit outside, he pushed open the cafe door. The little bells jingled as it swung closed and Keith found his way to one of the empty tables. It was cold, as it would be in January. The excitement of the new year had faded and New Years resolutions were already being broken. Keith smiled to himself; he had not broken his resolution, because he never made one. He figured that if wanted to change some aspect about himself then he could start at any point in the year, he didn't need to wait until a new year went round to start.

He pulled out his phone, lazily sorting through his emails. He skimmed over his most recent ones, mainly people who'd caught wind of him and wanted to schedule a meet up. Keith would answer those later, he didn't like to take on too many jobs at once. He did however, respond to the most recent one. He recognized the name; Jacob Hanson.   
They talked last week, and Jacob was eager for the job to be done fast. Time limits were hell, but Keith could get it done. Besides; the pay was good, at least twice as much as what he'd normally charge.

As he began to type out a response he brought the coffee to his lips again. It was cool enough to drink, so he took a long swig of the dark coffee. The warm, bitter liquid warmed him up, and he found himself holding onto the coffee when he was done drinking to warm his hands.

He heard the bells of the door jingle and he turned off his phone. He angled the black screen to see who just walked in the building. It was a man currently faced away from him, so he couldn't find what he was looking for. He scowled and sipped his coffee, wondering if his client decided to back out last minute. This was not uncommon for Keith, but annoying when he had to deal with the indecisiveness of it all.

Keith sighed and sank into his chair, propping his feet up on the table. The hard spirals in the chair design dug into his back but he didn't mind. He turned on his phone to check the time. 10:17. The time Keith arranged with the client was 10:20x

 _Ok so he's technically not late yet but he's really pushing_ _it_. Keith thought.

He turned to look at the people in line at the cafe again and saw the man who had previously walked in was looking at him. He quickly turned to face the register again once he saw Keith caught him staring. Keith smiled, having seen the sign that that was the man he was meeting with. A blue necktie.

He sat up in his seat. The man, Hugo was his name, had given him specific instructions with how he wanted to go about doing this. It was obvious that Hugo hadn't done this before, as his "plan" seemed more based off of an action movie then any actual deal that's went down in the past. Keith couldn't help but chuckle at how unnecessary it was.

The bells jingled again, and Hugo was walking towards him. He was clearly nervous, but doing his best not to look it. He clutched a plain white envelope in his hand and a coffee in the other. As he passed by Keith's table he slammed the envelope down and rushed off to a table farther down. He sipped his coffee and pulled out a book, attempting to look like he had no idea who Keith was but nervously glancing up at him every few seconds.

Keith rolled his eyes and peeled open the envelope. Inside was a wad of cash and a name, messily scribbled on a piece of paper. He pulled out the paper and turned it over to its other side. In equally messy writing was an address. Keith looked back in the envelope and saw a ripped photograph that had been hiding from him. He put the paper back in the envelope and pulled out the photo. It was a woman in her late 20's, with long blond hair that went down to her waist. She was facing away from the camera, a smile on her face as she looked towards whoever was ripped out of the picture. From that alone he could guess what happened.

He pulled the money out of the envelope and began counting it. It added up to about $200 dollars. He looked up at Hugo, who was watching him expectantly. He slowly shook his head. The price was too low. He never charges that little for the upfront price, it's always half of what he does the job for, and he would not kill someone for a measly $400 bucks.

Hugo's face scrunched up, clearly not happy with what he was hearing. Throwing away his plan for secrecy, he marched over to Keith's table and sat in the chair across from him. The look on his face was almost indescribable. Keith raised an eyebrow, not knowing if they guy was gonna punch him in the face or start crying.

"Please. It's all I have, I need this." He pleaded. "It's the most I could offer upfront if I want to pay the other half." He had his hands clasped together, like he was praying. He stared directly into Keith's eyes, as if it would help his situation. It didn't. He seemed absolutely desperate, but at the same time he like he was holding back. This man clearly had more money then he let on.

"Bullshit." Keith said, keeping his face blank. "And even if it wasn't, I don't do free hand outs." He began to stand up to leave, but before he could walk away Hugo grabbed his jacket sleeve. Keith narrowed his eyes and yanked his hand off. Hugo was scowling now, but he seemed more willing to cooperate. He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket and started rifling through it. He pulled out a clip of cash and started counting out bills. Finally he handed them over to Keith.

Keith counted the bills and smiled. "You must really not like this girl." He said.

"I hate her." His voice was steady, any trace of the fake desperation was gone.

Keith slipped the money in the envelope alongside everything else. He looked up Hugo, who was staring determinedly at his feet. Keith thought about it, then said. "You sure you wanna do this?" Keith knew the kind of person he was, and every time that kind would end up regretting what they chose to do. They'd call him late into the night; begging to go back on the deal; not understanding that these things happen fast. He didn't like hearing that shit.

"I'm sure." Hugo said.

Keith shrugged. "Alright, you have a deal."

Hugo nodded, grabbed his coffee, and left. He didn't look back, and when Keith left in the opposite direction, he didn't either. After all, could you look another person in the eye, knowing what you both just agreed to do?

Keith turned onto 405 Main Street. He's glad that his client agreed to meet at a cafe so close to Pidge's work apartment. He knew he'd be going to her place right away, and he'd rather not call a cab. He slowed down when the apartment building came into view.

It wasn't too bad, the rooms were nice and it had a nice view, but it wasn't where Pidge lived. She wouldn't dare have love with her work, it would be way too easy to track her. She makes enough she can afford to rent out a second apartment, and one so middle ground that if she did manage to catch some police on her tail, they wouldn't think to look in such a normal place. Or maybe they would, but that was Pidge's logic.

He pushed open the door to the building and made his way to the staircase. He looked longingly back at the elevator; thinking about how Pidge's apartment was on the very top floor, but he knew he couldn't. He had a bet going with Pidge that if he took the stairs every day for 6 months, his next 2 intel collections were free. Which may not sound like a lot, but for how much Pidge charges it is.

He made his way up the stairs, wishing he'd never made the deal. He smiled when he reached the top though, knowing he wouldn't regret it when it was time to cash in on the bet.

He made his way down the hallway, the sun shining through the windows, and stopped in front of Pidge's apartment.

He knocked twice. "Pidge? It's Keith."

"Doors open!" A voice called from inside the apartment.

Keith pushed open the door and stepped inside. Usually there were 3 or 4 other people inside the small apartment at once but today there was only one other man. He looked up and nodded at Keith, and Keith returned the nod. He knew most other bounty hunters, but he didn't go out of his way to be friends with any of them. In this kind of field, you don't necessarily need to be close with your coworkers. Pidge would disagree though, saying he can't shut himself up inside his apartment alone all day every day.

Pidge was currently sitting in the corner at her work station, typing feverishly on her laptop. She acknowledged Keith with a wave of her hand and Keith walked over to her. She looked up briefly and flashed a quick grin before turning back to the screen. "Who you got for me this time Kogane?"

Keith fished out the name from the envelope and handed it over to Pidge along with the photograph. She looked at both items and scoffed, setting the papers down on the table next to her. "Any ideas on why he wants her offed?"

"My guess is she cheated, or there was just a really painful breakup." He sighed. "I think he might still be in love with her."

"Tsk tsk." Pidge said, looking down at the papers and then scooping them off the table. She pushed herself up and scurried over to a large filing cabinet, tracing her finger down the the shelves until she found the one she was looking for.

"You'll have your info by Wednesday." Pidge said, pulling out a fine and dropping the slips of paper into it.

"Wednesday? It's never taken that long before." Keith said, leaning against the wall.

Pidge shrugged. "What can I say? I got a lot of clients. You'll have to wait your turn like the rest of them, or does _famous bounty hunter Keith Kogane_ get special privileges?" She said in a mocking voice.

Keith just rolled his eyes and looked over Pidge's work table again. It was then that he noticed an extra space cleared out on the otherwise cluttered surface. Another chair was pulled up.

"What's with the extra stuff Pidge?" Keith called.

"Oh, I'm training someone." Pidge said, falling back into her chair. Something started printing next to her and she swiped up the paper and started reading.

"Someone new? Why now?" Throughout all the years Keith had never heard Pidge even complain about wanting help, and now she was training someone? Keith didn't doubt her ability to teach, but it was a strange concept for him.

Pidge's sighed dramatically and flung a hand over her heart. "I'm getting old Keithy, I need to get ready for when I pass on to the next life." Pidge waved the other bounty hunter over handed him the paper. He stuck a stack of cash in her hand. "Who will take over when I'm gone?"

"Pidge youre like, 21."

"You can't prove that. How do you know I'm not a 50 year old woman who is just really good at makeup?"

As soon as they heard the door click shut Pidge's demeanor fell. Keith raised an eyebrow.

"Ok ok, so I might be slightly overloaded with work." Pidge admitted. "What can I say? A lot of hate in the world right now. I have people coming in with 3 names at a time and expecting them all done two days later. I figured a little help might be nice, and I looked into the guy and he seems like he could keep up with me so-" she shrugged "why not?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me. It'll be good to see you not trying to take on 10 clients at once." Keith said smiling.

"Just don't tell anyone okay? I don't want it getting out. I am trusting you with this." Pidge said, pointing a stern finger at Keith.

"You can trust me." Keith said, and Pidge relaxed at that. He frowned, a thought popping into his head, and in the most nonchalant voice he could muster He said. "Does Lance know?"

It failed; Pidge caught on instantly. A wolffish grin spread across his face. "Jealous?" She asked.

Keith scoffed. "Of course not. The day I'm jealous of Lance McClain is the day I dye my hair pink."

"Well I hope you're not too bothered by that color." She said, swiveling in her chair to turn back to her laptop. "To answer your question no, Lance does not know. If I told him he'd freak out and scare my clients away by lecturing them." She said, laughing. Her smile dropped in a second. "I actually haven't heard from Lance in awhile, do you think he's ok? He usually drops by every once in awhile to "make sure I'm still alive" as he says." She said.

As much as Keith didn't like Lance, he had to admit he cared a lot about Pidge, and even though she'd never say it to anyone but Keith; she genuinely did too. Something had happened in Pidge's past she refused to tell Keith about, but he knew that Lance saved her life. It was back when her name was Katie and she had hair down to her waist. Whatever happened forced her to change her identity and be more cautious then ever. Lance had helped her through a different time, and in that way he had Keith's respect, but that was the end of it.

Nevertheless, he knew he couldn't leave Pidge worrying about Lance. She works herself up and then shuts herself in the vents and crawls around to relive tension. It's happened twice before, and the apartment owner does not appreciate it when he finds the dents Pidge makes.

"Pidge I'm sure Lance is fine. You know how this business gets, and if your overloaded with work Lance probably is too. I'm sure he'll check in on ya as soon as he can." Keith said, ruffling Pidge's hair.

She smacked his hand away, but she was smiling, and Keith knew he'd said the right things. "I guess your right, now scat. I've got things to do, newbies to prepare for." She said, shoving Keith towards the door.

"You think he's smart enough to learn fast?" Keith asked, dragging out his walk out the door.

"Yeah I think he'll manage." Pidge said, facing the computer again.

"You think I could learn?" Keith asked jokingly.

"Hmm.. nah, don't think so." Pidge said.

Keith just shook us head and started walking out the door.

"...but Lance might be able to."

Keith whipped his head back around so fast you'd think he was possessed. Pidge was facing him and grinning wildly.

"I knew you were jealous!" She called

"Goodbye Pidge." He said, closing the door behind him. He could hear Pidge laughing as he walked away, and it echoed down the hallway as he pulled open the door to the staircase. He smiled as he started climbing down. He might have privileges from Pidge for being a more well known bounty hunter, but he certainly had one for being a friend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, chapters should be every 1 or 2 weeks from now on! I'm slightly overloaded with school work so just throw me a bone haha. Also the chapter number glitch should be fixed now :).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Keith exposition cause there is no story without it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end

~  
Keith unlocked his room door and pushed it open. One look around his apartment and he instantly felt himself melt with mental exhaustion. He shimmied off his coat and debated hanging it up or throwing it on the ottoman by the door. Pidge had told him he should invest in a coat rack, but Keith said they were too fancy for his forte. He also pointed out that he'd never have enough people over at once for a coat rack to not be redundant, but Pidge just waved that off and said he didn't know that for sure. He did.

 

He decided on laying it on the ottoman, thinking he didn't know if he planned on going out again or not. He hung his key on the key rack next to him and locked the door before he forgot, which he'd done once before. It resulted in him almost killing a man for walking into the wrong apartment drunk off his mind. He still talks to him sometimes, if they see each other in passing.

 

Keith didn't have the biggest place, but it was nice; a sort of minimalist place. It was a simple, white, open concept apartment with a balcony and a view. He had a smallish kitchen with an island against the wall, and across from that a bathroom. Closer to the center he had a small sitting room with a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table between the seats and a tv. Next to the couch was a light stand with an oldish telephone, which he used for any call he might receive from clients. behind that the whole wall was one big window. There were steps that led up to a ledge where his bed and dressers were; almost like an elongated loft bed, and under the stairs was a door that led to the balcony, where he had a few chairs, a plant, and a radio on a stand. That, accompanied with the breathtaking view of the city, was the reason he chose the apartment in the first place. The apartment itself was plain, but that's part of the reason he liked it. The only thing he changed, after gaining permission from the landlord, was changing the wall color from the grey- beige to a more sandy color. Other then that, it looked almost un-lived in.

 

Keith sighed and flopped onto the couch, letting his arm hang down the side and his fingers loosen, dropping his phone on the floor. His other hand groped around for the tv remote, before giving up and simply draping over the couch. He turned towards the blank tv screen and groaned, seeing the tv remote sitting on the stand. He debated whether getting up was worth it before deciding it wasn't. Instead, he opted for staring blankly at the ceiling and listening to the sound of the cars racing by on the road below.

 

Most people hated the sound of silence, and Keith wouldn't deny that he didn't like total silence. He wasn't unsettled by it, just bored. Having something to listen to was just an easier situation then silence, because if there is no sound to listen to we, as humans, make our own sound. When we don't have music or people to fill the silence the thoughts in our head get louder, and sometimes it's best to just keep them quiet. Because thoughts lead to other thoughts, which leads to the thought your trying not to think about, but then you can't help but think about it. No matter where your thoughts start they will always lead back to that one fucker of a thought who you want to leave you alone. Because it's the one your brain wants you to think of, and it's the kind of thought you have to physically shake out of your head. Everybody has one, and whenever you get that thought you suddenly feel the urge to turn on the tv you thought you didn't want.

 

Keith got up and grabbed the remote, deeming the background noise needed. Instead of turning on the tv though, he stopped to turn on the light, as the sun was starting to go down and he’d need the light for work. He opened a nearby drawer and shoved aside folders and loose papers. Not finding what he wanted, he shut the drawer and began searching through another one. After shoving aside a few books aside he found a pencil and the folder he was working on earlier. He’d been taking a page out of Pidge’s book and started organizing his targets files, but it proved to be too much of routine to keep in order.

 

With the folder and pencil in hand he traveled back to the couch and turned on the tv. He flipped through a few channels to find a show for background noise that wouldn’t distract him too much from work. After settling on a channel with reruns of “The Office” he sat back into the couch and slouched until he could swing his legs up to rest on the coffee table. He opened the file and began sifting through the information at hand, but he found himself unable to focus. His thoughts shifted back to the empty apartment.

 

Awhile back he’d played with the idea of getting a cat. He didn’t plan on starting any relationships and the apartment was getting stale to him, boring. He needed something other then the fluctuating routine of his life, and he liked the idea of having something to take care of. He’d always wanted a pet in his youth, but the closest thing he had were the salamanders that occasionally scurried past his home. Keith eventually decided against the idea of a pet though, because if something were to happen to him there would be nobody to take care of the pet. He would rather whatever cat he might’ve gotten go to a family who had the time and availability to give it the care it would need.

 

Maybe in the future he’d be able to have a pet, if he were to make enough money to retire. But the question resides, would he? He made a decent amount of money but not as much as others, or enough that might be required to over a large amount of time without a job. Besides, what would he even do? The whole idea of retirement just seemed foreign and.. lonely? It’s not like he’d have a group of old friends to hang around and play.. bingo with or some shit like that. Retirement just didn’t seem like something in his future. Maybe he’d start charging more for jobs, so that he could at least be certain that if he was forced to not be able to work he could still live without the fear of bankruptcy hanging over his head. He felt it might be a good time to start saving up.

 

Keith’s train of thought was interrupted by a ringing of the phone next to him. He hadn’t expected to be called at all tonight, so it must be someone new attempting to schedule something. Why they wouldn’t use his given email he didn’t know, people were just like that sometimes.

 

He reached over the couch and grabbed the phone, scooting over so he could pull the phone to his ear. Immediately he was greeted by a distraught voice.

 

“-can’t do it. Please... please I need to cancel. I can’t kill her I can’t. I won’t go through with this anymore.” The frantic voice cried into the receiver. It sounded like whoever was calling was on the verge of tears.

 

Keith sighed. He gets calls like the all the time; something in their lives making them realize killing someone wasn’t worth it. They weren’t fun to deal with, and he took no pleasure in having to tell them that these jobs get done fast, and that the person is already dead.

 

“..who is this.” Keith finally responded, keeping his voice steady. The man was still blubbering.

“Derik. Derik chastely. Please sir you can’t kill her you can’t. I’ll still pay you.. I’ll pay you double just please I made a mistake-“

“Sir.” Keith interrupted, not wanting him to carry on anymore. “The job is already done.”

“...no. Nononononono. It can’t.. it can’t.. no. God please. Please..” the mans desperate pleads continued until they were just sobs and screams into the receiver. Keith could tell at some point he had dropped the phone without hanging it up, and the sounds the man were making seemed distant. The longer Keith listened the more it took an effect on him. His eyes shut, his fists clenched, it was a lot of him to take in. The painful wailing sent thoughts into his head that he didn’t want to think about and he found himself restless. He hated this. He hated when people got like this: because this was the reality of what he did. He caused this. He is the reason this man and so many others are going through this grief. Even with his careful selection method these things would happen. He did this.

 

No. His thoughts screamed back. I just did the dirty work. The hard part. They did this to themselves. He did this to himself. He’s the one who asked for this in the first place. Keith reasoned.

 

“Derik? You there?” He said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

The crying stopped. There was a sniffle, a pause, and then a response. “I’m here.”

“You don’t have to worry about paying. It’s fine.” Keith said, a little calmer.

“No. This is my fault, I need to pay. At the very least I can do this. I’m paying you.” The man said. Keith could hear him trying to pull himself together.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll send the money over in a few days.”

“Alright.” Keith thought for a moment, not knowing what to say, and then. “I’m sorry.”

There was a dry chuckle on the other line. “Me too.”

A dead line. The man hung up.

 

“Fuck.” Keith yelled, practically throwing the phone back on it’s stand and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head in his hands. His stomach twisted up in knots and he felt like being sick. He hated that this was his life now. He’d be killing people for money for the rest of his fucking life and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

He shook his head and stood up. His face hardened and his eyes shot open. I will not let myself think so badly of what I do because of one fucking whiny phone call. I make good money, and I don’t kill anyone who doesn’t have reason to be killed. I’m doing my best. Keith thought to himself and began to pace. If people regret it it’s their own fault, it’s their own feelings. I don’t regret my decisions and I don’t regret what I do. His thoughts calmed down but his stomach still turned.

 

He thought about taking medicine to calm down, but he didn’t want to rely on that for these things. He needed to power through the bad feeling. He attempted to start working again but found himself unable. He did the only thing he could think of, which was poor himself a drink and make his way out to the balcony.

 

He turned on the radio and began pressing buttons to find the right station. He flipped through a few pop stations until he found a station with a Walk the Moon song and settled into the chair next to it. He took a long swig of the whiskey he poured and leaned back into his chair, taking in the view of the city. The cold wind rushed through his body and left him shivering; he loved it.

 

On nights like this when the sky was clear and you could see all the stars, Keith couldn’t help but think of the stars at home. When he was younger he would climb onto the roof and stare up at the stars until his dad yelled for him to come inside. Those small moments he could steal away to just relax and have time to pretend it’s just him in the world, those were the moments that kept him sane back then. They still are, but he doesn’t have to worry too much about who will catch him and what will happen when he’s caught.

 

Keith frowned, suddenly remembering the night when he left for good. He downed the rest of his whiskey as the memories flooded into his mind, of screams in his face and things thrown at him, the smell of alcohol on his fathers breath and the feeling of his hands around his throat. He swatted them away, not wanting to relive the moment or think about why it happened. It was not something he needed to think about, as it was just a moment in his past. He hadn’t talked to his dad in years, he was far away from him now. I’m fact, he hadn’t talked to him since he tried to get in contact with sh-

 

His thoughts came to a skidding halt as the name resonated through his mind. He wouldn’t think about him. Not here, not in this situation. His name didn’t deserve to he said, let alone thought about by him.

 

Keith felt sick for a new reason. Suddenly the idea of working didn’t seem like such a bad possibility. In fact, it was the best option.

 

That night he poured himself into his work until he passed out on the laptop.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the liking the dtory so far! I promise we’ll be moving away from exposition in a few chapters. Next chapter in 1 or 2 weeks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s got a job to do today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end

Keith woke up the next morning with one of the worst headaches in his life, but the rest of him was numb. He knew what had to be done today, and he was determined to not think about it until he needed to. He dragged himself off the couch and winced as he felt a sharp pain in his back from sleeping strangely. He rubbed his back and trudged his way up the stairs to get ready for the day. He looked longing at his bed, wishing he was smart enough to have fallen asleep in it for once, before peeling off the clothes he slept in and throwing them into a neat pile at the corner of his bed. 

He pulled on a fresh t-shirt and lined pants, the loose ones that he could move in. He debated whether wearing a sweatshirt, but decided that he’d rather handle the cold then risk the lack of mobility. He pulled his holster over his pants and slipped his knife in the side. 

He pulled the rest of the necessary weapons he would need today and layed them all out on the bed. He groped around the sides of his bed and upon finding nothing, started down the stairs to look for the backpack he needed.

Keith figured he’d left it in a closet or something, stored away with the other items he would need some days like an umbrella or a raincoat. He passed by the kitchen on the way to a closet and stopped. He took a detour to put on a pot of coffee, knowing he’d need all the energy he could get today. 

He walked back to the closet and continued his venture to find his backpack. He began to dig through the stuff that compiled inside. He pushed aside coats that were too small for him and old shoes without the matching pair. He wondered why he let his stuff pile up like this, thinking it could all probably go to some use. Eventually he saw one of the straps of the pack poking out from the pile of fabrics and other miscellaneous items. He grabbed the strap and after a few yanks, the bag stubbornly yanked itself free. He stumbled back a few steps, but smiled in satisfaction when he looked down at the bag in his hands. He set it down on the floor and kneeled next to it. He unzipped it and checked to make sure that he had cleaned it out next time. After taking out a few crumpled up papers and photos, Keith determined it fit and zipped it back up. 

He shoved the loose items that tumbled out of the closet back into it. Right on cue the coffee maker beeped, letting Keith know his coffee was ready. He set his bag on the island and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, pouring himself about half a cup before opening the fridge to grab milk. He sighed as he looked at the cartons label next to a happy looking cow. He found out he was lactose intolerant awhile ago, but he continued to have normal dairy anyway. It wasn’t until recently when he started having some pretty intense stomach pains that he decided it might be best to cut down on it and try some other alternatives. He tried pretty much all the not-milk variants he could find, but almond milk was the only one that he could actually enjoy. Still, it wasn’t the same as normal milk.

He poured enough milk in his coffee to cool it down and watched as the dark liquid turned a lighter shade of brown. He took a hesitant sip from the still steaming cub , then decided it was drinkable. He took a long look around his apartment before basically deflating in defeat. He would need to leave soon if he wanted to get this done right, but he knew it was going to be a painfully boring afternoon for him.

He took a long swig of his coffee before setting it down and sweeping up his backpack, making for his bedroom. He quickly shoved what he thought he might need into his bag, which only consisted of a pistol and some extra ammo. He wasn’t expecting a fight or a challenge, so he wouldn’t need much.

He padded the weapon with a sweatshirt and a few shirts and held the backpack up. Once Keith decided you couldn’t tell he had a weapon in it he slung it over his shoulder and headed out of his apartment. 

Normally Keith would opt for walking to where he needed to go, but this location was farther away and he wouldn’t make it until too late, so he flagged down a cab when he reached the sidewalk in front of his apartment. He slid into the backseat with his pack beside him.

“Where to?”

“Know the Steel plant down by Eberly?”

The cab driver huffed in acknowledge and started driving. The small sound of drops of water periodically sounded on the windows. The farther they drove the more frequent the sound got until it was steadily raining outside.

Shit. Keith thought, watching the droplets of water collect and slide down the glass. He planned on waiting outside the plant for his target to walk out, but he’d have to relocate to someplace inside if the rain got any worse. Which means Keith would have less of a chance of spotting him. 

As much as he hoped the rain would slow, it seemed to only get heavier the farther out they got. Keith sighed out of pure and udder frustration. He tried to think of a place where he might be able to take cover. If he was gonna be forced to stand outside in the fucking rain just so he can make sure this douche bag manager didn’t flake today, then he was gonna be pissed. 

Keith’s phone chimed and he looked down; it was a message from Pidge. He brought the phone up to his face and opened the text, which was a photo of the rain on her apartment window accompanied by the text:  
“P: Raining where you are?”

“K: Worse. Why’d ya send the picture of your window? Could’ve just asked. “Keith texted back.He watched the text bubbles bounce on the screen before Pidge responded. 

“P:Just bragging about the new, now crackles window. hold on, I’ll find someplace for ya to go since you couldn’t do a google search for yer god damn life.”  
Which Keith agreed with, since he never really knew what to look up to get the answer he wanted. 

He smirked to himself as he read the text. He remembered how excited Pidge was about the new windows being installed, ones with thicker glass. Guys kept getting impatient or angry or just being shitty and punching her windows. Keith remembered her ranting to him about how “It’s always the windows. Punch a pillow, punch a chair, punch another fuckin guy I don’t give a shit! Leave my fucking window alone!” He never remembered hearing her curse that much in his life. 

Soon enough Pidge sent over a location of a fast food joint down the block, which would give him a view of at least the front of the plant. Which was good enough for Keith as long as it was out of the rain. 

He asked the cab driver to take him the extra distance so he could avoid being soaked. The driver dropped him off in front of it and Keith passed up what he him. He hopped off and rushed inside. He liked rain, but he hated the feeling of being wet. Especially with the kind of jacket he had on, which once wet cling to his sides and left him feeling slightly sticky and claustrophobic. 

He made his way to the counter and glanced at the menu. It was a standard burger joint, but he wasn’t too hungry, so he ordered a coffee and a small fry and sat down in a booth on the side of the building. He could just make out the huge wire gates that signified the entrance to the plant. Keith grabbed a couple fries and pushed them into his mouth, checking the time on his phone. His target’s job didn’t let out for another half hour, so he had time. He couldn’t help but wonder how his client was doing in there; if he knew that today was the day the man he wanted dead would die. He always wondered that about his clients, whether they nervously awaited a phone call saying that what’s done is done. Whether that was nervous energy or excitement. Whether they blocked it out of their mind completely and almost forgot they even did it until they get the phone call from Keith and their reality comes crashing in. Because he knows the kind of clients he has; they’re desperate. Desperate, scared, good people who’ve been wronged or have seen someone wrong another. He’d never kill someone who didn’t deserve to be killed, or work for someone who had dirty intentions in mind. Thorough research went into every client and target he had, and this target? The most cliche one in the book. 

Ben Darudo. The former CEO of a decently successful company. He was fired due to sexual harassment charges. A steel plant hired him to be the manager. They say it was because of his experience, but word around the office is Ben bribed them pretty heavily. After he got fired he became an alcoholic pretty fast, and his client thinks he’d been on the brink of alcoholism awhile before then. His wife divorced him and the workers found out he abused her, which wasn’t a surprise to any of them because of his treatment towards them. He’s an asshole, a bully, and just a shitty person in general.   
When Keith originally asked his client if he was sure he wanted to go through with this, he only laughed and said that if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else.

As if on cue with his thoughts the target walked out the gates and started making his way down the street. Keith got up and rushed out the door, following him from a safe distance away. From the way the target was walking you would think he was on his way to meet the president or save the world or some important shit like that, but then he veered right and walked straight into the bar, flinging open the door. His purpose driven walk now more closely resembled a kid who saw a candy store down the street.

Convenient. Keith thought when he passed the bar. That not only did he apply for a job close to a bar, but bought a new house just a few blocks away. This guy really has a problem.

It didn’t take long to get to the mans neighborhood. It wasn’t a rich neighborhood, but these people definitely made more then the minimum wage. Each house was huge and gorgeous, with well kept lawns and colorful, bright houses. One look at them and you could at least one room in the house has a chandelier and the person living their probably owned a small animal of some sort. You could barely tell each house apart, but from Keiths previous days of observing his target he knew which was the right one.

Keith approached the door and rang the door bell. He waited to see if there would be an answer, as sometimes the cleaning service that was hired by his target came in on different days. When there was no answer, however, Keith bent down and lifted up the mat. Sure enough, right where he saw the man looking for it before, was a silver key. Keith picked it up and unlocked the door before slipping the key back under the Matt and slipping inside. He relocked the door and set his stuff down; now it was time to play the waiting game.

A brief moment of panic struck Keith when he remembered security cameras. The people he killed were assholes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t murder. The “community” he was in called themselves bounty hunters, but they didn’t work for the police. They were more rough bounty hunters: they killed for a profit, but they weren’t hired and given jobs; they went and found them themselves, or people found them. He worried about the street having security cameras, but then realized if that were the case there would’ve been a gate, and street cameras can only capture so much; Keith was fine.

So Keith waited. Waited for what seemed like hours of excruciating boredom. He hated that the safest way of doing his job was also the most mind-numbingly dull. He could be out drinking with the guy right now and he wouldn’t even know Keith was gonna kill him. Keith shook his head at the thought. That would be cruel, almost like a mind game. ..The kind of thing McClain would do.

Eventually Keith heard the stomping footsteps of someone trying their best to stay upright. Keith figured the guy was probably plastered by now, and he didn’t have to worry about being stealthy, but it was better safe then sorry. So he crouched around the corner and waiting for the man to walk in, praying that he hadn’t decided tonight was gonna be the night to bring a girl home. If that were so it could get way messier then he planned for it to be. 

The man emerged alone though, and Keith took a deep breath. A long, deep breath. He allowed himself to shut his eyes for just a moment. Only a moment to let himself feel any sort of empathy.

And then it was gone. 

He wouldn’t waist time with this.

As soon as the man closed the door Keith was there, bringing him to the ground. The man may be big, but he was too drunk to fight back. He probably didn’t even understand what was happening right now, that these would be his last moments. The man cried out in alarm, but was cut off by the swift cut of Keith’s knife slitting his throat. The mans eyes went wide as he attempted to take in oxygen, but instead started cocking on his own blood. He fought to sit up before Keith plunged the knife into his chest and he convulsed with pain before lying still. Keith exhaled and stood up, yanking the knife out and letting the mans head lull to the side and the blood drip out of his mouth. 

He looked down at his clothes and sighed. He thought the job was clean enough that he wouldn’t get any blood on his clothes, but sure enough there was a long stripe of blood splattered across his chest. He trudged over to his backpack and stripped his shirt off, exchanging it was a spare. 

As Keith left the house and closed the door behind him he though about how much of a pain it was going to be to get this stain out if he didn’t get it treated fast. He took out his phone to start dialing Pidge’s number to let her know everything went according to plan when he saw a face peeking out from behind a house. He froze. 

From what he could make out it was a woman with long purple hair hat looked almost pink in the sun. She narrowed her eyes at him and scowled, grabbing the siding of the house with what looked like the force of a grizzly bear, then turned and fled. It took Keith approximately a few seconds before he figured out she knew what just happened. She’d just witnessed him commit a murder.

Which means he’d be commuting another one very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a lot longer then I wanted! I couldn’t figure out how to transition how I wanted to, and I didn’t want to post something I wasn’t happy with. It will not take his long next time.
> 
> Side note, I have an art account on instagram called vssketchess, and if you scroll back there is a mini comic about a (very) future scene in this story. So don’t read it if you don’t want a spoiler! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds out who the woman watching him is and what she wants, and is faced with a strange decision to make.

Keith took off after the woman, his pack bouncing against his back as he sprinted in the direction he saw her go. It doesn’t take long before he catches sight of her again, squeezing herself in between tightly situated houses to make it out the other side. By the time Keith got there she had already made it through, but to his confusion it was easier to get passed then she had made it look.

Once again he could see her just in front of him, occasionally looking back, checking if Keith was still running after her. She didn’t look scared of him. Maybe more surprised at how easily Keith’s as gaining on her, but it only took a short burst of speed for her to be able to take her lead back.

After chasing her into a familiar pattern of buildings Keith realized something; he was being led somewhere. This woman was _letting_ him catch up to her, letting him keep her just in his field of vision so he could follow her. She definitely meant for Keith to see her back at his targets home, and she was playing off of Keith’s tunnel vision.

 _Dammit_. Keith thought. He was being played, led into an obvious trap. _I can’t let this woman lead me somewhere I don’t want to end up, but I can’t just let her get away either. If I can only predict where she wants me to be._

Keith’s thoughts led him into trying something risky. He needed to cut her off If he didn’t play this right he would lose sight of her completely, and probably never be able to find her.

As they reached a long stretch of alley Keith broke off on one of his “short cuts” and started booking it over fences and through yards. He ran past barking dogs and through people’s gardens, huddling over fences until he finally reached a street. He ran to the edge of the block and turned back into an alley. If he was right she would turn down another alley in order to not risk Keith catching up to her. There was only one was to turn. As long as she didn’t look behind her one more time Keith’s plan would work.

Keith slid his knife out of his pocket and gripped it right in his hands. He held his breath and waited. One second... two seconds... three seconds... and then he heard the woman’s footsteps echoing down the alley. He heard her breathing next, and he shot out in front of her, stopping the woman in her tracks.

Before she had the time to react Keith shoved her against the wall, holding her there with a vice-grip kind of force and pressing his knife against her throat with his other hand. His still-bloody hand stained her shirt red and blood dropped down his arm on her shoes. The woman scowled, struggling to breath from both the running and the knife. Keith was panting too, but his stance did not waver.

Now that he wasn’t chasing the woman Keith had a better chance to take her in. The woman had long, pale-ish blue hair tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were narrowed and slanted like a cats, but intensity burned in her eyes. She was thin and lean, clearly well trained, and she showed no signs of fear. She was cold and calculating, and Keith assumed she was trying to figure out the best way to take control of her situation. Keith could respect that, but he would not be relenting any mercy or power to the woman.

“Who are you.” Keith asked after a moment. The woman did not speak, and he put more pressure on the knife.

The woman’s eyes flared and she tensed. “That’s not something you need to know.” She snarled, almost cat-like.

“Alright, then another question.” Keith said, figuring she was right and that he had more important things to ask. “Why haven’t I killed you yet?”

Keith almost caught a hint of a smirk on the woman’s face. “Because I have a message to relay to you.”

“Is that why you were hanging around, watching me?”

“Yes.” she gasped out as Keith pressed the knife closer. He didn’t like what he could infer from this, that someone knew who he was and clearly wasn’t going to become a client. If they wanted to send someone to talk in person, to let him know they exist without actually knowing they exist, was never a good thing. And this woman definitely wasn’t the boss in this situation. She was too.. excited to be in her situation. Too driven, as if this was her opportunity to prove herself.

“... I’m assuming you got a boss then, does the big guy want something from me?”

She laughed, a callous sound. “More then you could know. More then you _will_ know.” She seemed to no longer care about the knife to her throat as she pressed herself forward, menacingly smirking. “But I could tell you all about it if you’ll remove the knife from my throat.” To be fair, she could barley get the words out with how intensely Keith was pressing the knife to her. He couldn’t expect her to explain anything like this.

He didn’t like it, but against his better judgment he stepped back; removing the knife and his hand from her body. She let her collapse for a moment, clutching her throat and heaving, before pushing her self up and dusting herself off. She made no move to draw a weapon on him, simply stood a respectable distance away, clearly to make a break if needed be. Keith eyed her distrustfully and so did she.

She cleared her throat. “Before I say anything, know that I have no desire to turn you in or get you arrested. My boss is a wealthy man, and he has a proposition for you. Landing you in jail is the opposite of what he wants.“

“Why does he need you to approach me directly instead of calling.”

“He simply needed me to make sure he has the right person.” She paused for a moment. “You are Keith Kogane, yes?”

“In the flesh.” Keith said without humor.

 “Clearly.” She said, just as coldly. “My boss doesn’t do in-person, he will email you with the details explaining what is needed from you- if you choose to accept his proposition.” She spoke softer now, her voice cool and smooth. Whatever she was about to say she took quite a lot of pleasure in saying it.

Keith felt a shiver go down his spine. Something about the woman and her supposed boss rubbed him the wrong way, and he couldn’t see himself agreeing to anything. At the same time it seemed like if he declined this mans offer, he would not make it out of this exchange alive.

“Go on.” He said simply.

“It boils down to this. You will be given a special case with a... _different_ situation you might be used to. You will be given a target and they will be a higher up.. very important, if you know what I mean.” Keith did, it wasn’t uncommon that he would receive a request for the death of a government official, but the requests payed far too little for him to accept such a dangerous target. “

You will be payed handsomely for your complicity in the matter, and even more so if the job is done right.” She finished.

Keith thought for a moment. This could just as easily be a set up as it is a real proposition. Somethings tells him, however, that if this boss wanted to kill him he would be dead already. Escaping this situation without accepting would be far too risky to attempt. He felt trapped.

“Will you accept?” The woman asked, as causally as if she was offering him a free sample of something rather then a very serious and dangerous decision.

“I will.” Keith said, feeling like he had no other option.

The woman smiled. “Excellent. Expect follow up details soon, my boss should contact you via email. It should also provide a date for a follow-up meet up with me, which you will be required to attend.” She began to walk away before stopping. “And please keep this to yourself, it would be... unfortunate if anyone else were to find out about our chat.”

Dammit. He wanted to talk to Pidge about this. “You have my word.”

“Good, and believe me, if you do tell anyone _we will know._ ” She smiled and waved goodbye before turning a corner and disappearing.

Keith sighed and slumpt against the wall. Even if he was allowed to tell Pidge, he wouldn’t anyway. This was clearly a very serious and very dangerous situation, and he didn’t want a repeat of what happened in her past, whatever it was that happened. No, He would have to deal with the situation he got himself into alone.

“Good luck to me.” Keith said to the empty streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that chapter took so long, I had no desire or motivation to write this part. It’s also why it’s so short, but it was vital to the story so.. sorry if it’s sloppy.

**Author's Note:**

> This was rushed and mainly exposition, I promise the rest of the chapters will be more polished. I just kinda wanted to squeeze out Keith's opinion of Lance. The rest of the chapters will be less past memory and more in the moment, I promise.


End file.
